


in my veins there is pain (it isn't blood that flows through me anymore)

by thedragonbane (orphan_account)



Series: nobody is happy (you'd be a fool to think differently) [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Family Dynamics, Joffrey lives, King Joffrey, Mentions of rape and death, Original Character(s), Pretty sad, Queen Sansa, au - nobody is happy (you'd be a fool to think differently), au - sansa marries joffrey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 03:58:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thedragonbane
Summary: I am the queen, the queen of pain and lost hope but I am the queen. She feels part of a sad, sad song.Or, that sad AU where Sansa marries Joffrey.





	in my veins there is pain (it isn't blood that flows through me anymore)

_And all of sudden I felt really tired. Like the world had drained me for everything that I had - bgt_

* * *

_**T**_ he day of her wedding is bright and warm, so warm she feels herself sweating in her cloak, and Sansa wonders if this is one of the cruel japes the gods are so fond of playing on her. This was the day she had been dreading for so long, and dreaming of for not so long before that. Baelor’s sept stood proud on top of Aegon’s Hill.

Crowds were gathering around it, full of smallfolk and nobles both. When her litter stops at the marble steps, it takes every single bone in her body to stop Sansa from fleeing. She is not a coward, she is the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and she shall do her duty, however cruel it is.

Her ladies carry the enormous dress Cersei picked for her. She hasn’t cared to remember her ladies names though she knew she had once, they were all spies for someone who is against her. When she reaches the grand entrance, Sansa turns back to wave at the people. They dragged her into their crowd, years ago, she should hate them, but they were hungry and sad and angry and often Sansa wished they had killed her.

Now wasn’t the time to think like that though, and so she smiles as brightly as ever – a fake smile of course, but weren’t all her smiles fake now? She hears the cheers of the people and for a moment her smile is true – _they love me, I always wanted them to love me!_ – but then she remembers that their cheers were just as loud and clear and happy when they called for her father’s head. Her smile was false again.

When she turns, it is Tywin Lannister she sees. He was Hand of the King now, as he had been for King Aerys.  _He has a tendency for serving mad kings, doesn’t he?_  Sansa thinks, the thought comes suddenly but honestly.

Lord Tywin puts out his arm and Sansa understands. He will be the one to walk her through and down the sept, he will uncloak her and give her away and just thinking of that makes Sansa feel ill.  _You are not my father!_ She wants to spit at him but it would be foolish to do so.

With fingers as cold as ice, she put her hand on his arm. He doesn’t look at her, except to nod as though he approves of her action. I do not need your respect, Lord Tywin, she thinks as they begin to walk. It disgusts her that she is holding the arm of the man who gave the command to kill her mother and brother.

Did he write out the command of their deaths with this very arm, and hand? Or did he shake the hand Roose Bolton, the damned traitor that he is, with the arm she holds now? Thinking of Roose Bolton doesn’t help the sickness she feels in her stomach, he killed Robb, he betrayed Robb and my mother and the rest of them.

Instead of imaging her mother’s screams and Robb’s blood flowing through the Twins, Sansa looks to the lords and ladies who had been deemed noble enough to stand inside the sept and not outside with the commoners.

She saw some of the Kingsguard, Meryn Trant and Boros Blunt, standing among the nobels at the ends of some rows. If there were ever knights so unworthy of being in the Kingsguard, it was these men. Sansa wondered how Bran would have felt now, seeing how low the ancient order of knights had fallen. Would he have felt as sad as Sansa?

They are nothing like the songs, they are nothing like Ser Barristan, who was the truest and bravest knight in the realm, or was, Joffrey dismissed him, saying he had gotten too old to be a knight. Sansa remembered how Boros Blunt had laughed as the man who only seconds ago was his brother was stripped of all he had and all he was. Ser Barristan might have looked sad to see his brother go, that is what a true knight would do. _When will I learn? There are no true knights, not anymore._

She remembered the arm she held and thought, there are no true men at all. Lord Tywin was a monster, like his daughter and grandson. A different type of monster, to be sure. Joffrey was openly cruel and mad but Lord Tywin had killed a lot of men himself and he was responsible for countless deaths, like my mother and Robb.

Sansa blinked to hide away the mist in her eyes. She hadn't cried since the day she heard about Robb, she wasn't going to cry now. But everytime she thought about Robb she imagined her brave big brother being shot and stabbed and beheaded, everytime. He was meant to save me. He should be walking me down here, when Father cannot.

As they walked closer to the septon Sansa looked at Joffrey, her almost husband. Joffrey had been a pretty boy but he was a handsome man now, his face the very image of his Uncle Jaime. His everything was the image of Ser Jaime actually.

Sansa believed the rumours of Cersei and Jaime, she truly believed that Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen were bastards born of sin. Still, she couldn't blame Myrcella and Tommen, both of whom had treated her with absolutely nothing but kindness. They do not deserve to live in such a cruel world.

Lord Tywin leads her up the steps and before she knows it she is facing Joffrey. They must look a handsome picture, the handsome king smiling - however creepily - at his lady and wife-to-be. Sansa knows that the singers will tell tales of this beautiful union. _They shan't sing ballads of the scars on my back, or the fear that is in my eyes when I look upon my betrothed._

The septon says some vows, she hardly notices. _These aren't my gods,_ she thinks, for all she was raised in the Faith of the Seven as well as the Old Gods. Soon, Lord Tywin is touching her again, to remove her cloak. No! She thinks, wanting to scream, he is going to remove the last piece of evidence of her being a Stark. I will always be a Stark, whether my cloak is grey or not.

"You may cloak your bride," the septon says. Sansa wonders if he can see the way she trembles in fear of her husband, almost husband. She turns because what else can she do? Joffrey is unpinning her maiden cloak when she thinks she tastes blood in her mouth. She wants to scream at him, she wants to claw at him and kill him.

He is doing it slowly, on purpose, because how else can he hurt her but to make her think of how she won't be a Stark after this. _I will always be a Stark, in my blood flows Lord Eddard Stark, the most honourable man I've ever known, and Lady Catelyn Tully, the strongest woman I'd ever known. My blood is not that of Cersei's and the Kingslayer's._

Joffrey throws her cloak to the ground, some squire picks it up, it might have been Podrick Payne but Sansa doesn't know, she isn't truly focused on that right now. The yellow and black cloak is heavy on her and for a moment Sansa wonders what would happen if she tears it off, rips it apart and stomps on the pieces.

She turned back to Joffrey and there was his devious smile again. How she wished she could kill him right now. He had the look in his once beautiful eyes, he was hungry, hungry for blood and hungry for her pain. _You forget_ , she thinks but doesn't say, _I am hungry too, hungry to kill you, hungry to tear you apart._

In that moment, she felt like she was a wolf.

When the septon smiles like they are the happiest people in the world, Sansa feels more like a wolf than ever. He says some vows, which Joffrey repeats, smirking all the while. Sansa repeats her own vows and then the septon joins her and Joffrey's hands together in silk.

"Here in the sight of gods and men," he says to the people of the sept, "I do solemnly proclaim Joffrey of House Baratheon and Sansa of House Stark to be man and wife, one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever, and cursed be the one who comes between them."

 _I shall pray to the one that comes between us_ , Sansa thinks when she heard it, _and our souls are different, as are our hearts and flesh_. Joffrey leans towards her and she gulps. His wormy lips are on her and she wants to cry. Sansa sobs into his mouth and she can feel his smile.

* * *

  Her food is left uneaten and her wine glass remains full the whole night. Instead of being tortured by Joffrey, - he won't stop talking about how she is Sansa Baratheon now - all night long, she tries to enjoy herself, however hard it is. She had always been good at dancing, she had always enjoyed it and so that is what she does.

First, she dances with Lancel, Lord Kevan's son, whose nose had been turned up at her since they began their dance, next she dances with Ser Loras, who had come with his family to the wedding. Her favourite partner was Ser Loras' elder brother, Ser Garlan who was kind and friendly and made her smile. She has just finished dancing with Ser Garlan when she is joint with Joffrey. She wants to hit him and push him away, but she can't and so her hand goes on his shoulder and they dance.

Despite how pretty and elegant they look, Sansa can see Joffrey's eyes, they are bright and scary. _How did I ever think you kind?_

The night ended far too quickly for her liking, even though she was quite miserable the entire time. Joffrey was calling for the bedding and suddenly there were men all over her. _No, no, no._ They were taking her clothes off, the last time men did that was during the riot down in the city. Her dress was being torn up, her hair done from its braids. Somehow, she wasn't crying, despot it all. When she was almost completely naked, someone put her on their shoulders and carried her up the stairs, away from the other men's prying hands. The man who carried her gave her a wink and Sansa was sure she was Lord Tyrion's man, the knight who won the Blackwater. Ser Bronn of the Blackwater if she remembered well.

Joffrey was already there when she got to the bed, the look in his eyes terrified her. She got hurt that night, she hadn't ever been in so much physical pain but somehow, she didn't cry. A small part of her had hoped that Joffrey would be gentler because he didn't know what to do either. He knew though, he had been playing with whores for years.

* * *

 Sansa has a coronation ceremony, she has to do it all herself for Joffrey is already king. She has to walk down the sept a week after her wedding, she is still in pain from that night, and she feels safer, without the Hand walking beside her.

In front of the people of Westeros, smallfolk and nobles alike, she is crowned Queen Sansa Baratheon and she smiles, truly, for the first time in a long time. _I am queen of you all, all who harmed me, I rule each and every one of you_. She remembered thinking that if she was queen, she would make the people love her. Sansa smiled at the people and decided that she would try and protect them from their king.

She descends the steps and at the bottom Joffrey takes her hand and walks her down the sept and out to the city, where her carriage lays. Some are smiling, many really but most are fake. She sees Ser Garlan and his pretty wife and she sees Lord Tyrion and his knight and squire. She passes Lord Tywin who seems almost bored by the whole thing and she passes Myrcella, and her Dornish prince, who smiles at her.

Tommen stands near his mother, and Sansa thinks it is Tommen's smile that keeps her walking. When she sees Cersei she can't help but think, _I am queen now, you aren't even a regent now_. The thought doesn't make her feel better, she feels like she is becoming Cersei.

_I the a queen, the queen of pain and lost hope but I the queen. She feels part of a sad, sad song._

* * *

 Her first child is born a boy, after much pain and screams but he is born and he is alive and that is all she needs. When the nursemaids hand him to her Sansa is happy to see that there is doubting he is Joffrey's; emerald eyes and blonde curly hair, already. His eyes aren't grey and his hair isn't brown but maybe that makes it easier for her, she isn't sure.

Joffrey names him Tywin and Sansa can't help but wonder, does the Hand feel happy to have the future king named for him or is he displeased that the future king will be a Baratheon, or called a Baratheon. She doesn't care too much about the name at that moment. In later years she will be more than hurt that Joffrey named her firstborn after the man who commanded the order of her family's deaths but for now, she has her boy and what else if there to do but look at him?

 _I will live for you,_ she decided as she stared into his bright eyes, his small finger curled around her own.

Was this how my mother felt? She can't help but wonder, did her mother think the same things Sansa is when she saw Robb for the first time? Already she knows that she would die for this little boy, she would kill for this little boy, but most importantly, she would live for this little boy.

As he grows, Tywin shows how unlike his father he is, no matter how they have the same sharp features and the same look in their eyes when they are thinking and all the rest of it. By the time Tywin is two, Sansa is with child again - with children, accordingly to the maester. Sansa cannot wait to have more joy in her life, even though it pains her that she shall live longer than Robb and that her children shall never know their Stark family or the North.

Myrcella is a lot of help with Tywin, though he is an easy babe, and she dotes on him like a true aunt would. “He will break many maidens’ hearts when he grows, with his looks,” she says one day when they sit on the balcony. Sansa just smiles and hopes her son grows to be happy - nothing else really maters.

When she is midway through her second pregnancy, Cersei comes to her. Even since her wedding and her crowning the week after, Cersei hadn't really spoken to her. She hadn't minded of course, but she had been forever dreading the day Cersei would come and seek her out.

"Are you enjoying life as a mother?" She asks after she helps herself to wine, Sansa doesn't drink it.

"Very much..." she almost says, your grace, but she is queen now, Cersei best remember that.

"Yes, it is good to be a mother, mostly happy times," Sansa doesn't know where Cersei is heading with this so she doesn't say anything, just waits. "You will understand now, then?"

Sansa looks up at her, right into her green eyes, "What do I understand?"

"What it's like, to love your children, your son. You would do anything for your child, or your children, I know it. You would burn cities to the ground to keep your boy safe."

She is speaking about her love for Joffrey, Sansa sees now. She wants me to understand why she stood by day after day as I was beaten up by her son.

Her Tully eyes meet Cersei's and Sansa says, confidently and honestly, "I would do many things for my child. I would kill each and every one of my enemies and each and every one of my friends to keep them safe. To keep him happy and alive and safe I would do things that would land me in the Seven Hells."

The look in Cersei's eyes is all approval. "You do understand then. If need be, I would wage wars on each lord in these kingdoms, and kill them with my own fists to make Joff smile, I would look past all his flaws and errors because that is what you do for your children. Your own mother treated your father's bastard like dirt for her eldest son’s sake, I butchered Robert's bastard children for my son. If Joff had natural born children, wouldn't you kill them, for your son?"

Sansa is disgusted with herself when she hears herself say, "Yes, if it came to it."

Suddenly, there is a look of sorrow in Cersei's eyes, Sansa cannot tell if it's true or not. "Joffrey has hurt you, remain strong and battle through it. It will all be worth it one day."

She doesn't say anything, thank you doesn't seem to be the right thing to say but Cersei seems to understand well enough. The Queen Mother is out of her solar before she can bat an eyelid. All of a sudden, it becomes quite clear to Sansa. She won't ever forget what Cersei did to her and her family but she can understand her, and if that makes her a monster, then so be it.

* * *

 She has twins, a girl then a boy. Oddly, these births weren’t nearly as hard as Tywin, well, considering the fact that there were two babes this time.

“We’ll name him Steffon, for my grandfather who died before I was born,” Joffrey says, holding his second heir in his arms. Steffon has his father and elder brother’s look, though his features aren’t as sharp as theirs, he is softer and his green eyes aren’t as bright, though they do have hints of grey. He is handsome, Sansa decides,

“You can name the girl,” Joffrey tells her, likely because he thinks the son is more important.

A hundred names go through Sansa’s head then; Catelyn, Lyarra, Lyanna, Minisa, Lysa, Jeyne, most Stark names, some Tully names but no Baratheon or Lannister names.

Arya is the name she thinks of the most, it is Arya she wants to name her girl most of all. As an apology for how Sansa treated her, but would Arya want a Lannister looking girl named for her? No, that wouldn’t do. Jon, the name runs into her mind suddenly. _Jon is my last brother left and yet he is over at the end of the world. How sad is that?_

She could call her babe Joanna, for Joffrey’s late grandmother as well as her brother. “Joanna, for the grandmother you never had the chance to know.”

“A good choice,” Joffrey says, and holds Joanna up. She is a Lannister, without a doubt, for all her name is Baratheon. She is the image of Myrcella, her features softer than Joffrey's but not so soft as Steffon. She will be a beauty, Sansa can already tell, she already is a beauty.

* * *

 Life is going as well as it could be for Sansa. People respected her more than ever and occasionally Lord Tywin asked her to go to Small Council meetings. Joffrey wasn't kind, but that wasn't new. He didn't care for doing his duties as a king.

(Even though life was better than it once was, every day was hard and every day was another chance to end it all, to let go of it all but she wouldn't do that - she couldn't do that, not to the children.)

Tywin was five and had already won over the people of King’s Landing during Sansa’s visits down there – I have made them love me, me and my son. The twins were three and were growing more like Lannisters every day – in looks, Sansa couldn’t help but see her family in their nature and personalities.

Her children were perfect in every way. One night, she had a thought, _what if my daughter starts to become interested in sword fighting? What if one of my sons begin to climb the castle walls?_ Then, the thoughts got darker. _What if my sons wage war against one another? What if they aren’t burnt to the ground by someone they called friend?_

 _What if they are killed under the sacred laws of guest right? What if my daughter must watch her father die, watch her father be sentenced to death by her beloved husband? What if she is beaten bloody by the so-called finest knights in Westeros?_ _What if I have to watch my son die before being killed myself...?_

 _My children shall not suffer like Lady Catelyn’s did,_ she told herself, she promised herself.

Thinking dark thoughts only made her life worse and Sansa didn’t want that. Instead she focused on helping Myrcella calm her nerves for her wedding to Prince Trystane. That marriage won’t need scars to prove their loyalty to each other, that was easy to see.

Myrcella would get a court wedding, as was custom with a Princess of Westeros. The Tyrells came to court, Margaery Tyrell was betrothed to Tommen now, they’d need to wed soon, Margaery was old for a maiden but Sansa supposed that being the Lady of Casterly Rock made up for it.

* * *

 Myrcella’s wedding, and Quentyn's, was as beautiful and happy as she deserved it to be, everyone was dancing and laughing and even Joffrey was smiling, where he sat next to her. On her other side. Sansa was seated beside Tommen, with Lady Margaery at his other side. She was beautiful, if a little old for Tommen, but then Sansa felt protective of him, for all he was practically a man now.

Lady Margaery was kind and cunning but Sansa could she was well practised in the game, the game of thrones that is. But Margaery was pleasant enough with the children, before they left to go to sleep early.

When the dancing began, Myrcella and Prince Trystane led it, with Sansa and Joffrey behind them.

“You are pretty tonight, Queen Sansa,” Joffrey said, Sansa wondered what he was doing, what game was he playing?

“Thank you, your grace,” she said as he spun her, graceful as ever. _How could a monster be so charming?_

The danced moved on and Sansa was partnered with Tommen, who was near as tall as Joffrey now, then Prince Quentyn, who seemed shy and nervous even though it was Myrcella that was younger and it was she that would be leaving home. He was smart though, and clever and kind, and what else truly mattered? She danced with Prince Trystane, who was more handsome and easier-to-talk-to than his older brother but Sansa hopes that Myrcella will come to see that looks, really, don't matter at all. He, Prince Trystane, was to wed to Allyria Dayne, who had been betrothed to Lord Beric Dondarrion before he died – and came back.

For a moment, Sansa was eleven again, she and Jeyne were talking about all of the knights at the tourney they were attending, the one in honour of her father. _‘I’m going to wed him,’_ Jeyne had said about Lord Beric. They were so innocent back then.

Sansa danced with Ser Garlan again, he was ever more cheerful these days, his wife was with child again. After him she spun with Tommen again, then Ser Jaime – she hardly smiled then, she wouldn’t forget what he helped do to her family. Soon she was paired with Joffrey again and she couldn’t help but notice how he wasn’t looking at her but at something, or someone behind her.

When the bedding was called for Sansa didn’t join the ladies running off with Prince Quentyn. Joffrey disappeared but Sansa didn’t see him go after his sister, where would he be now though? Instead of investigating like a fool, Sansa began walking to her chamber – her one, not Joff’s – and Ser Balon Swann, her sworn shield, followed after her.

If there was only one knight worthy of wearing a white cloak in King Joffrey’s Kingsuard, it was Ser Balon. He was valiant and good, he wasn’t part of the guard when the others bet Sansa with swords and gave her her scars but she suspected he would be like Ser Arys, and refuse to harm her. She hoped so anyway, the world was lacking true knights. Good men in general were scarce these days.

When Sansa got to her door she hears giggling from inside, she opened the door and saw that Shae was there, trying to hush the children but she was laughing too. “What is going on here?” Sansa asked, pretending to be commanding. That caused Tywin to giggle even more and the twins followed him in their laughter.

“Your grace,” Shae curtsied, smiling a little. She had always been fond of the children, and Sansa knew that Shae would protective of them as well.

“You may go rest, Shae, I’m sure you got no sleep looking after these three.” The children laughed again. They were all huddled in her bed, cuddling each other and it pained Sansa deep in her heart. She and Robb used to do that, and Arya and Bran. Even Rickon would come into her bed asking for stores occasionally. _All of them are gone now, we were all too young._

Shae curtsied again and wished her a good night before taking her leave. Sansa told Ser Balon to close the door behind her so she could have some time alone with her children.

"Mama!" She heard Joanna say, Sansa smiled and took off her cloak and the heavy parts of her dress and she put them on the couch, her shoes were kicked off there too and she went over to her bed, where there was enough room for all her children, her and then some. Sansa pulled the covers over herself and smiled at her children.

Steffon smiled, "Mama!" he came over and hugged into her. Joanna crawled over from where she sat with Tywin, she put her head on the same pillow as Sansa and grinned at her mother.

"Are you coming over, Tywin?" She asked him in a feigned whisper, causing giggles from the other two.

"Yes, mama," he whispered back and rolled over until he was behind Joanna. He pulled the covers over he and his sister and smiled when all he could see of Joanna were her eyes. Sansa put the covers, which were warm thankfully, just under Joanna's chin. "Can we hear a story, mama?" Tywin asked, stifling a yawn, though not to well.

The other children joined his cry and Sansa hushed them gently, "Which story, my pups?" They loved the nickname, and had ever since she called them it as a joke.

Steffon, who like his sister, couldn't say full sentences properly babbled something that Sansa couldn't fully make out. Tywin, who was the translator, spoke for his brother, "He wants the tale of a warrior prince..." Joanna said something as well, when she finished Tywin continue, "and Joanna wants to hear about knights."

The twins nodded at their brothers words, Sansa pretended to be deep in thought, "I suppose I can tell you the story of Prince Duncan and Jenny again?"

At the sounds of their approval Sansa went to start the story when Joanna interrupted, "Jenny ganma?"

"No, darling, Jenny isn't your grandma, nor is Duncan, his sister is your great-great grandma, is that alright?"

"Yes, you can go," her daughter says, turning on the pillow to look at her, her green eyes were bright in the dark. Well, it was as dark as it would get now, it was summer after all, it was always a little light, even with all of the windows, curtains and doors shut, and there was a candle burning across the room.

"Okay," Sansa begins, "there was once a prince named Duncan..."

By the time Sansa got to the part where he gave up his crown for Jenny, the twins were asleep and Tywin was drifting off. She stopped then, but continued the story in her head - _Duncan loved Jenny so much that he cast aside his crown and kingdom, and Westeros paid for it all in corpses._

As a girl she had thought it was beautiful but now she wondered if love was worth war and blood and death? It was his choice though, Duncan should have been allowed to chose. How odd that Sansa's son was like Duncan, a little, both were heir to Westeros, Sansa hoped that Tywin didn't fall in love with a woman from the woods.

She shook her head, remembering the times where she would lose herself in the tales of Duncan and Jenny, or Duncan's siblings' stories of love, forbidden love. She had played those games with Robb and Jon, even Theon would be Lord Lyonel if he could be bothered to 'play with little babes'.

Thinking of times long gone hurt... but that was a happy memory, it was a shame she felt so sad because of it. She had to remember where she was now, with her own children. _I won't let anyone hurt you, any of you._

Sansa pulled the covers off of Steffon a little, so he didn't heat up, and she was lying back down when Tywin touched her arm, "Mama?"

"Yes, darling?" She rolled on her side and turned to him, his eyes as bright as his sisters were.

"Can you tell me about Winterfell?" He asked, Sansa could hear the innocence and kindness in his voice. He will never understand, is that good or bad?

"Of course... anything in particular?" She asked him, leaning over and kissing his forehead from where he lay, only half under the covers. He always got warm easily.

"Everything, but a lot about the snow!"

She hadn't seen snow in so long... she hadn't been to Winterfell or the North in a decade. Had it really been so long? Yes, when she thought of the snow and how happy she had been there, she could feel the weight of every day since.

"Well, I've told you what snow is like, haven't I? Yes, well my sister and I would throw them at one another, as a game, and we would see who could snow castles out of them. Once, Robb and Jon had hid behind a tree and waited until I had came outside just to throw them at me."

"Is Robb your oldest brother?" Tywin asked, both curious and innocent and he reminded Sansa of Arya.

Thinking of her siblings hurt, Robb more so now than ever. He was supposed to save her but lay with some girl instead. "Yes, darling he was my eldest brother. Then there was Bran and Rickon, and my sister Arya."

"Is Jon at the Wall?" Her son asks, "Is he your last brother left?"

She only just blinked away a tear at that. "Yes, Jon is my last brother now, and he is safe at the Wall."

Shortly afterwards, Tywin fell asleep but Sansa didn't fall follow him easily. She thought about Robb and Jon, Arya, Bran and Rickon. _I was happy once, I was safe_ , it was odd to think she had ever been completely happy. _I thought my life was plain then, and boring, but I would go back to that lifetime in a heart beat now._

Still, she had her children - something to live for.

* * *

 Alla Tyrell comes to court with a babe, claiming it is Joffrey's child. If Sansa hadn't seen the boy herself, she could deny it but she had seen the bright and emerald eyes for herself. They were the eyes of her children and her husband.

The Small Council were divided on how to deal with the matter. Lord Littlefinger said that he could make the child 'disappear' - Sansa had felt a chill go through her when he said it. Tommen didn't seem to know what to do, he didn't want children killed, was all Sansa could tell. Lord Varys' seemed to be trying to avoid chaos while Cersei suggested outright killing the babe, and its mother.

At his daughters suggestion, Lord Tywin shook his head, "We can't kill Alla Tyrell, Lord Mace will be furious and a rebellion will occur. I'm sure we could massacre House Tyrell and make each of them... disappear, as you say Lord Baelish, but I'd rather not."

It chilled Sansa, the way they spoke so easily and casually of murdering people, butchering children. But then, Sansa had heard the Rains of Castamere more than once at court, she knew the story behind the ballad. "Your grace, what do you think we should do with this babe?"

Joffrey sat at the head of the table, Lord Tywin was on one of his sides and Sansa was on his other, and she could see that Joffrey looked bored. They were speaking of how to 'get rid of' or kill his own child, and he seemed to be annoyed at this meetings inconvenience. "Kill it?" He clearly hadn't been listening.

"That would anger the Tyrells, your grace," Lord Varys said, "It might be unwise to do so."

"I'm the king, not the Fat Flower," Sansa heard Littlefinger laugh, _don't encourage him_ , she thought to herself. "This is my kingdom, _I_ sit on the throne, if I remember correctly, not a golden rose."

Lord Tywin just looked at his grandson. Sansa imagined he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Your grace," he said, speaking to her now, "what do you believe we should do with the babe, and it's mother?"

"Well, getting rid of the child seems to be the quickest answer... but we don't want to start a war between our Houses, or anger the Tyrells, not so close to Prince Tommen's wedding to Lady Margaery. The child shouldn't grow up with the Tyrells, they will be whispering in his ear as he grows, whispering lies that he should be king and the other false promises and we don't want anything resembling the Blackfyre Rebellions," she says, Lord Varys nods at her. He knows I don't want children killed, nor does he, I think.

Lord Tywin says, "We will find somewhere to foster him. Mayhaps at court, or Tommen, you could take him to Casterly Rock. When he's old enough we might do well to send him to the Wall... what do you think, your grace?"

The king just shrugged, "I care not even a little for this child, get rid of it, I don't care."                          

Honestly, Sansa didn't know what to think. Her father, mother and septa had taught her right from wrong as she had grown up and she new it was wrong to butcher children, her father would have stood up and fought anyone who even thought of harming a babe. She wasn't as brave as her father though, but she was a mother, killing babes wasn't right, she didn't need a mother instinct to tell her that though.

That child wouldn't ever become king, Sansa wouldn't ever let her children's rights get overpassed. Aegon the Unworthy adored his bastard and despised his trueborn son, and how much pain had came from that? Thankfully, Joffrey didn't care at all for this bastard and he doted on Tywin - well, as much as Joffrey could 'dote' - and Steffon, even Joanna. He sometimes bounced Tywin on his knee while he sat on the Iron Throne.

"What is the bastards name?" Littlefinger asked, sounding bored but curious.

Lord Tywin looked at him as though to say, _'why won't you be quiet?'_. "Robert Flowers."

Joffrey laugh aloud, Sansa could hear Littlefinger's snigger and see a small smile on Lord Varys' face.

"My father would be so pleased, wouldn't he? My father, the great warrior of his rebellion, the Demon of the Trident is the namesake of a boy with the surname of Flowers." Cersei snorted and Sansa heard Tommen hiding a laugh behind his hand, and somewhere, at the very back of her mind, Sansa was laughing at the irony of it all.

It was such an odd situation, Sansa wondered how it all came to this. Not too long after this, she would be nervous and worry of what might come from this Flowers boy but for now, she could enjoy some true, real laughter - she was even smiling with Joffrey.

Part of her felt like a traitor to her father's memory, her mother's and brothers' and Arya's too, but a larger part of her was happy to be happy, or close to happy.

* * *

 Joffrey lays with her that night, it hurts her some but not nearly as much as usual. He even attempts to pleasure her - it doesn't work, she'd never let it work. She wonders if this is his way of apologising for having a bastard but that's silly, Joffrey doesn't feel bad about his actions.

When she falls asleep, Sansa dreams of her and Joffrey lying together in the very bed she sleeps in.

_"I will give you anything you want, my queen," Joffrey says, holding her close. Sansa can tell that he is kind, and she can sense love. He loves me, she realises when Joffrey kisses her head._

_Sansa realises she loves Joffrey. "I want them dead, my king."_

_"Who? Tell me there names, Sansa. Give me the names and they shall be gone."_

_She seems confident after Joffrey kisses her again, and holds her closer. Sansa realises they are both completely nude. "The Freys. All of them, my king."_

_Her husband nods, "They will be slaughtered."_

_"Send the young boys to the Wall and the girls to the Faith, please, but I want the head of every man whose name is Frey."_

_Joffrey laughs softly, "I will present them to you for your nameday, every single one, my queen."_

After she wakes, Sansa thinks about the dream. She wonders what it means, perhaps she and Joffrey could have been like that. They aren't though, and she is happy that that is true. She wonders how she could ever love him, how could she love a beast?

 _I am a monster too_ , she thinks, _we are all monsters, in some way or another._

The dream gets her thinking though, and after that night she dreams of dying Freys. That scares her more than anything.

* * *

 By the time Tywin is ten and the twins are eight, Sansa has had two more children. Jocelyn Baratheon is born four years after the twins and Gerold Baratheon is born two years after her.

Jocelyn has the rest of her family's emerald eyes and the same blonde hair. Sansa can't see anything but Joffrey when she looks at her daughter, she is all Joffrey every where. Where Joanna looks like Myrcella, Jocelyn could be Joffrey's twin - the only difference was their age and gender. Jocelyn is only four but Sansa can see that she will have her father's heart, more than any of the others, bar Tywin.

Her last is Gerold, named for Lord Tywin's lost brother, Gerion. Gerold is two and the most Stark looking of her children. Yes, his eyes are the same blinding green as the others but he reminds Sansa of her Father. It's not just that his hair is some shades darker but the smile, the laugh and the warmth he has naturally and every thing else that made her Father, Father, and not Lord Stark. I wonder what Father would say if he saw my Lannister looking children?

Despite their blood, she is proud of them all. Tywin is smart, he can use a sword very well and he is charming and kind. Kindness is important, she would tell him, mercy too - he has trouble with his letters, and doesn't excel in his numbers but he is intelligent in his histories and politics.

Joffrey and Lord Tywin announced the betrothal of him to the Princess Arianne's second born child and second born daughter, Princess Valena, earlier in the year.

Joanna was already as beautiful as her aunt and has broken several hearts already - young squires and last born sons, mainly. She is courteous and knows the ways of the court she grew up in. She is the darling of the court, really.

Her twin doesn't do so well in courts and politics, he is a charmer, sure, and can make people laugh and smile but he apologies too much and too quickly and he gives in much too quick to other people's wishes. Sansa wouldn't dare call him weak, but she fears he might one day be called this when and as he grows older.

Sansa is happy to see that already Jocelyn is showing signs of kindness and humour and Gerold is happy enough. All in all her children are alright, and so she is alright - for now, of course, the game never truly stops, it is always being played.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think of this! I'm already planning part two!
> 
> Edit: I've just changed some things - Mycrella is wed to Quentyn now :)


End file.
